Today in the Arena, the necromancer, Kymil, faces off against a newcomer 
to Saberhaven, Arnor Bladesilver.  As the people in the stands wait for the 
fight to begin, the talk focuses on the happenings to the south.  In the 
Wildlands, giant clans are beginning to join together.  The word is someone 
is bringing them all together into a large force, for some unknown purpose.

    The spectators quiet as the competitors are announced.  As the large 
doors at each end of the Arena open, the last of the bets are concluded and 
a hush settles over the crowd.

    The first to enter the Arena is the half-elf, Kymil.  A member of the 
Association of Problem Eliminators, Kymil looks to be all dressed up for 
todays fight.  His pantaloons look baggy, but decidedly well-made.  They are 
held up by a wide leather belt, which also supports his twin shortswords.  A 
white shirt, with black trim, is covered by a black vest.  A bandoleer with 
four daggers crosses his chest, and as he enters he is just slipping one of 
his swords into it scabbard.

    From the other side of the Arena enters Arnor.  Tall and slender, Arnor 
is a few inches over six feet tall.  He is covered in slim, form fitting 
platemail that covers his body, from booted feet to throat in shiny and 
well-oiled metal. From his back spring broad, silver feathered wings.  His 
hair is a shining silver and is tied back in a long ponytail that reaches to 
his waist.

    Said to come from the upper planes, Arnor's face is narrow and well 
defined, with high cheekbones and a delicate nose.  His ears look like those 
of an elf, and his skin (what little of it can be seen) seems to shine as 
brightly as his armor.  His hands bear three rings, and around his neck he 
wears a pendant.  A pair of scimitars rest at his hip, and in a bandolier 
across his plate armored chest are the four distinct diamond shapes of 
throwing knives.

    All this is pieced together as the people in the stands look down at 
him.  He seems to blur at the edges, most of the time seeming little more 
than a gleaming patch of silver.  However, there seem to be brief, 
half-second lapses where he appears normal.

    As soon as he clears the doors, Arnor spreads his wings and whips out 
his scimitars, sending them through an elaborate attack routine.  Then, as 
suddenly as it began, the scimitars stop.  The judges give the signal to 
begin and Arnor leaps into the air.  His broad, eaglelike wings beat the air 
as he wings his way across the Arena towards his opponent.  He almost seems 
to have a radiance around him as he flies, eliciting several ooh's from the 
crowd.  His scimitars are clasped tightly to him as if they were the talons 
of a bird of prey.

    As Arnor flies across the Arena towards him, Kymil casts a spell.  As he 
finishes, the crowd watches, but there doesn't seem to be any effect.

    Winging his way across the arena Arnor slips one of his scimitars back 
into it's scabbard.  With his now-empty hand he rubs the ring on his other 
hand, whispering a word to activate it's magic.

    Still standing mere feet from where he entered the Arena, Kymil is in 
the midst of another spell, when suddenly the sky is split by a column of 
flame, which roars down from above, streaking down at Kymil.  The 
necromancer, in the midst of a spell, can only move a few feet to the side 
without ruining his casting.  There is a thin shriek of pain as the flames 
hit the floor of the Arena, but as they die away Kymil can be seen, unhurt 
and still incanting the words to his spell.  As he finishes, the necromancer 
is surrounded by a shimmering aura of swirling colors.  Although the aura 
seems to contain every color imaginable, there is a definite pattern of red.

    Arnor gives a small grin as he wings his way ever closer, his 
immaculately white shining teeth glinting in the sunlight. One long-fingered 
hand pulls his second scimitar back out, while his other simply tightens its 
grip on the scimitar already there.

    With Arnor flying straight at him, Kymil hurries through the 
incantations to another spell.  As he finishes the spell, there is a 
momentary brightness right around him, but it quickly fades into the general 
swirl of colors around him.

    Finishing his spell, Kymil looks up just as one of Arnor's scimitars 
swings in.  The blade looks lined up to slice open Kymil's throat, and as it 
sweeps through the swirling colors surrounding the necromancer, the aura 
seems to dissipate into the afternoon air.  However, as they fade a second 
aura is revealed.  This one, barely noticeable, flares slightly as Arnor's 
blade hits it, and is deflected.  In a blur of swordplay, the paladin's 
scimitars slice at his foe several more times, but each time are deflected 
with no harm done.

    Arnor's face hardens as his scimitars seem to have no initial effect on 
his opponent, but he presses on resolutely, his armor flashing in the 
sunlight from the rapid movements and strikes that he throws at his 
opponent. One scimitar seems to emit a bit of a melody that mixes with the 
song of the blades, that only seems to make Arnor more resolute.

    At the same time, Kymil, seemingly unconcerned with the blades flashing 
in at him, begins another spell.  As Arnor's blades continue to be 
deflected, Kymil quickly works through the incantations for the spell.  Just 
as the half-elf finishes his spell, Arnor seems to slip in his attacks.  A 
sword goes flying out wide and he has to side-step to keep his balance.

    Confident that his protections will hold against Arnor's attacks, Kymil 
calmy starts into another spell.  A shadow seems to pass over his features 
momentarily as the half-elf taps into the dark energy which powers his 
spells.

    As Kymil begins his spell, Arnor steps back and sheathes his scimitars 
in one fast movement.  Reaching across, he rubs the same ring as before and 
steps back over to Kymil, just as the necromancer finishes his spell, to no 
visible effect.  Pointing his hands straight at Kymil, Arnor delivers the 
flames that suddenly roar forth from his hands.

    Before the flames can burn away Kymil's flesh though, a shadow again 
obscures Kymil's features, covering him almost like a second skin.  The 
flames leap around Kymil, but do him no harm. The shadow around him seems to 
ripple, and the same light scream of pain can be heard.  The shadows again 
retreat, and Kymil stands, unharmed.

    Snarling incoherently, Arnor's hands again reach for his scimitars.  
Seeing this, Kymil smiles slightly and starts reaching for the components 
for his next spell.  Just before the half-elf goes into spellcasting, Arnor 
lashes out with his foot.  Kymil staggers backward as Arnor kicks him in the 
stomach.  Glaring at his foe, Kymil backs away, putting some distance 
between the two of them.

    Arnor grants the half-elf a feral grin before he leaps into the air, his 
wings spreading broadly as the propel him towards the half-elf.

    Kymil closes his eyes momentarily, apparently seeking an inner peace.  
When he opens them again, he lets out a small laugh.  Drawing the two short 
swords at his belt, Kymil says, "So, you don't like my spells?  Well then, 
let's see if my swords are any more useful than yours."

    Closing to melee range, Arnor again lashes out with his foot.  Although 
it connects this time, Kymil shrugs off the hit as if it were nothing, all 
the while slashing at Arnor with his swords.  The swords hit a few times, 
but none of them leave so much as a scratch on the paladin's armor.

    A slight look of disappointment can be seen on Kymil's face as he says, 
"Well, apparently my blades aren't any better."

    Seeing that Kymil is ready to fight it out blade to blade, Arnor brings 
his own blades into play.  For the first time, the paladin's shapely jaw 
moves as he speaks, "If you drop your own protection, I will do likewise, 
and we can see which one of us possesses the greater blade knowledge. So 
then, come at thee!"  he finishes, and steps forward to put his scimitars 
into play again.

    Already slipping his blades back into their sheaths, Kymil replies, "Why 
Arnor, you seems to forget.  I have other skills beside those with a blade."

    Seeing his opponent reaching for spell components, Arnor again kicks out 
with his foot.  However, Kymil's shadow again swirls up from it's place on 
the Arena floor, interposing itself between the combatants.  Arnor's foot 
hits the shadows, and the force of the blow is absorbed.

    Arnor barely has time to get both feet back under him before Kymil 
finishes his spell.  Lightning leaps from the half-elf's fingertips, arcing 
straight at Arnor.  The aasimar has no time to dodge, and lightning plays 
all across his form.  And then, a second later, it is through him, and 
continues across the Arena, fizzling out 70 feet away.

    Kymil, seemingly unpertebed that his spell had no effect on his foe, 
quickly begins to mutter the same incantation.  Arnor starts to back away, 
but has only gotten about ten feet when Kymil again points his hand at 
Arnor.  Though he jumps to get out of the way of the oncoming lightning 
bolt, the tail end of it still gets him.  It's nothing compared to what it 
could have been, but it still leaves his hair standing on end.

    Slowly climbing to his feet, Arnor looks over to his opponent in time to 
see Kymil again pointing his hand at him.  Dropping back to the ground, the 
lightning goes right over him, inches above his head.

    His knees popping as he stands up, loose strands of hair standing up in 
all directions, his hands tightly gripping his scimitars, Arnor glares at 
his enemy.  Kymil has already started casting another spell, a thin smile 
playing across his face.

    Tired of the half-elf's arrogance, Arnor kicks himself into the air.  
His wings beat furiously as he flies straight towards the necromancer. 15 
feet away, Kymil finishes his spell.  An orb of darkness forms in his hand.  
Kymil is quick to hurl it at his foe, but Arnor manages to duck aside, and 
the ball of blackness misses.  It hits the ground 60 feet away, splashing 
the area with darkness, before seeping into the ground.

    With Arnor only seconds from hitting, Kymil spits out a few arcane 
syllables.  Instantly, vapor starts to seep up from the ground, quickly 
obscuring the area.  The next instant, Arnor flies straight into the fog 
bank.

    From inside the fog bank can be heard Kymil, incanting yet another 
spell.  The cadence changes a couple of times, possibly marking a new spell 
being cast.  Seconds later there is a bright flash within the fog, followed 
almost immediately with a cry of pain, and a lightning bolt comes shooting 
out of the mist.

    Looking around him, all Arnor can see is fog.  He can hear Kymil working 
through another spell, somewhere off to his right.  Calling on the power of 
his god, Arnor's wounds start to knits themselves together.  Despite that, 
most of the damage is internal, and isn't healed.  But, it's enough that he 
can move relatively without pain.

    Arnor's powerful wings start to beat once more, sending him forward, 
flying just a few feet above the ground.  Heading straight for where he last 
heard Kymil, the paladin has gone 20 feet when he bursts from the fog.  
Looking forward, there's no sign of Kymil.  Straining his wings to their 
limits, Arnor arcs up and spins around.

    Hovering in the air, his feet just above the fog bank, Kymil looks over 
at Arnor.  The aasimar just has enough time to note that Kymil has grown to 
over twelve feet in height, before the half-elf launches his first dagger.

    The enlarged weapon flies straight for Arnor, hitting him in the arm.  
However, it seems to do no damage and falls to the ground.

    His arm pumping, Kymil rapidly sends another three daggers flying at 
Arnor, while at the same time rising higher into the air.  Arnor, his hands 
now empty, and a look of rage plain on his face, angles his flight to attack 
Kymil.

    Two more of the daggers are deflected with no effect.  However, it would 
seem that Arnor's defenses are failing him, as the last dagger slices a gash 
on his leg, narrowly missing his wings.

    By the time Arnor gets to Kymil, the two are nearly 50 feet in the air. 
The paladin's hands reach for Kymil's throat, seeking to throttle the life 
from the necromancer.  Clasping the half-elf's neck, the muscles in Arnor's 
arm flex mightily.  However, Kymil seems completely unbothered by the hands 
wrapped around his throat.

    Arnor, his wings beating the air, manuveurs himself around behind Kymil, 
keeping his hands tight around the necromancers neck, continuing to try and 
snap it.  Kymil, reaches back, trying to grab hold of Arnor and pull him 
off, but can't get a grip on the paladin

    Keeping a hold on Kymil's neck with one hand, Arnor reaches to his belt 
with the other, retreiving the hilt of a scimitar, the blade of which seems 
to be missing.  At the same time, Kymil begins another spell.

    Pressing the sword hilt against his foe's neck, Arnor suddenly hears a 
high-pitched scream.  A shadowy something bursts from Kymil's neck right 
where the hilt is pressing, knocking Arnor's hand back.  As the hilt pulls 
away, the glowing blade of the scimitar can be seen, apparently being pulled 
back out of Kymil's neck.  However, no wound is visible on the half-elf's 
neck.

    Arnor, situated behind his opponent, is unable to see the components or 
movements Kymil goes through as he finishes his spell.  He hears the 
half-elf give a small grunt as the spell is completed, but there are no 
visible effects.

    Arnor, growing tired of Kymil's tricks, slashes at the necromancer's 
neck.  He watches with satisfaction as the blade parts the skin and muscle, 
then in dismay as the wound knits itself closed almost instantly.

    Kymil, pushing back, finally manages to break his enemies grip on his 
throat.  Spinning around, the necromancer smiles as he reaches for one of 
his swords.  To Arnor he says, "Well, you're certainly proving an 
interesting opponent.  I see we're going back to using steel.  I'll try to 
help you out.  I'll only use one weapon too."

    Pulling out his second scimitar, Arnor presses his attack.  Lashing out, 
his first scimitar slices into Kymil's chest.  However, as his second 
scimitar begins it's swing, there is no evidence of his foe being harmed.  
The paladin's second scimitar hits Kymil in the shoulder, but also fails to 
harm him.

    Kymil doesn't bother pulling his second weapon, but instead punches with 
his free hand, while trying to gut Arnor with the sword in his right hand.  
His sword stabs in, bringing forth a spray of blood.  Arnor moves to 
intercept the half-elf's fist, but when he tries to pull his scimitar back 
around too sharply his wrist twists at an unnatural angle, and with a 
grimace he drops the scimitar in that hand, sending it falling to the floor 
of the Arena.

    Kymil slows his fist at the last minute, almost gently resting his hand 
on Arnor's shoulder.  At the same time however, his short sword stabs 
forward again, punching through armor in search of the flesh beneath.  
Another spray of blood bursts from the wound as Kymil pulls his blade out.

    Arnor gasps slightly at the pain of his chest wounds but presses 
forward, lunging at the lump under Kymil's shirt, just above the waist.  His 
scimitar slashes through Kymil's shirt, hitting the dagger beneath it.  The 
dagger, stabbed into Kymil's gut, goes flying off to the side.  Looking up, 
Kymil growls under his breath as he stabs forward once more with his sword.

    Arnor's eyes widen as the sword pierces his lung.  Letting go of the 
sword's handle, Kymil's second hand sweeps in, hitting the base of the 
sword.  There is a spray of blood as the blade's tip burst out Arnor's back. 
  Pushing the paladin away, Kymil watches him struggle briefly to stay 
airborne before his strength fails him and he crashes to the ground.  As a 
pool of blood forms beneath Arnor's body, the judges declare Kymil the 
winner.